


A Friend Like Harry

by zeski



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Actor Liam, Alternate Universe, Based on a Tumblr Post, Director Zayn, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Famous Liam Payne, Famous Zayn Malik, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Manager Niall, Mentioned Harry Styles, Mentioned Louis Tomlinson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-02
Updated: 2019-12-02
Packaged: 2021-02-26 08:02:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21640027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zeski/pseuds/zeski
Summary: After a year of fake dating, time comes for acclaimed director Zayn Malik and outstanding actor/model Liam Payne to split. Except that getting publicly engaged doesn't exactly accomplish that. To further complicate things, Liam's new mate and his awful timing make communication harder on Zayn's side.
Relationships: Zayn Malik/Liam Payne
Comments: 12
Kudos: 89





	A Friend Like Harry

**Author's Note:**

> Accompanying [moodboard](https://zeskiyo.tumblr.com/post/189431572530/a-friend-like-harry-by-zeski-language-english).
> 
> Based on [this post](https://zeskiyo.tumblr.com/post/189419745880/were-fake-dating-and-im-supposed-to-publicly) on tumblr. Title is a bit of a pun on French film _Harry, un ami qui vous veut du bien_ (2000), also known as _Harry, He's Here to Help_ and _With a Friend Like Harry..._. However, this story has no connection to the film. (Which is a thriller, as far as I know, and that I haven't even watched.)

A Friend Like Harry

“This is all your fault.”

The quip rolls off Zayn’s shoulders with the same ease he lounges in the purple, bean bag chair. This right angle his legs form with his torso won’t do his spine any good, but he’s honestly more into avoiding glares for the past ten minutes or so. Has been doing a _phenomenal_ job, too.

“This is all your fault!” Liam confiscates the mobile out of Zayn’s grasp. A scowl meets Zayn’s bored gaze. Bored, because it’s been like this since leaving that restaurant. “We were supposed to split. Not get bloody _engaged!_ ”

Digging his heels, Zayn sits upright. Little does he care about invading Liam’s personal space. Liam’s started—and refused to drop—it; not him. And making Liam recoil and almost fall on his arse is just another rush of accomplishment, if anything.

“The higher the hope, the higher the fall.” He snatches his phone back, cocking a single challenging eyebrow. “That’s basic on telling _any_ story, mate. You should know tha’.”

All that huffing from before now tickles Zayn’s face. Somebody’s nearly hyperventilating here. Who gets this worked up over an innocent prank?

Liam and his furrowed brow, seemingly.

“All I know is that you’re bonkers!” Liam hisses, returning to his original height. “ _Fiancé_ ,” he adds, needlessly stressing each syllable.

“Really sure ya don’t wanna get married? Already bickering like ye do, eh?”

This time Zayn joins Liam in the glaring contest, now united against the mastermind behind this mess: their friend and agent, Niall Horan. _“It’ll be good PR,”_ he said. _“You two look good together,”_ he said. _“It’ll be nice for ye, lads,”_ he insisted.

And maybe it did work for the first year or so, but now it’s just above and beyond duty. As a director and an actor, Zayn and Liam attend lots of events and awards together. Add to it rehearsing ‘couple answers’ that are consistent, and they spend a lot of time together. A lot of time learning trivia about each other and convincing the world of their ‘love’.

What good is knowing that Liam aspired to be a singer before becoming an actor? That Zayn cannot say for sure. He can, however, list all the times Liam got close to a breakthrough before choosing acting. He doesn’t take pride in this, but it is what it is— he’s on the same level as Liam’s most fervid fans. _Good grief._

Niall pops a crisp into his mouth, shrugging almost like a reflex. “You’re still engaged, so...”

“With a fu—” Liam purses his lips, swallowing his original choice of words. “With a blooming toy ring!”

Okay, Zayn admits it’s hard to remain serious when Liam shakes a large, hairy hand in the air. Nothing unusual about it—Zayn has large hands himself—save from a ring on the ring finger. A pink, plastic ring with a white kitty in a pink dress. It’s one of those rings with a gap and visibly stretched from fitting an adult’s finger.

“I had to improvise,” Zayn half lies. Because he could have waited and bought a nice—and _cheap_ , please—metallic ring, but no. The moment Liam got up to get that Harry bloke’s call, he just _had_ to find the nearest capsule ball machine and spend some coins on it. Five tries later, he had two rings, a bouncing ball, a red yo-yo, a green Stegosaurus, and an idea.

Not shabby, if you ask him.

“Spontaneity, Payno!” Niall is all grand gestures, waving his hand still shoved into his bag of crisps. “Your fans loved it. I loved it. _Everybody_ loved it!”

Liam frantically scratches at his right eyebrow. It’s a quirk that manifests itself whenever he’s overwhelmed. Zayn recognises it because he’s witnessed it many times by now. Because even though he reckons Liam has talent, out of character, the lad is too easy to read. After all, Zayn has over a year of practice.

“It’s actually perfect,” Niall begins, throwing an arm around Liam’s neck. “Come with me, mate!”

His voice lowers close to a whisper, which is his trademarked cajoling tone. And trust that Niall Horan _always_ has his way. That’s just how it is. You know what he’s doing, you know how he’ll do it, yet everyone falls for it. Zayn isn’t an exception, and neither is Liam. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have agreed to a _fakelationship_.

Many words and lots of sweet talking later, Liam storms out of Niall’s office. Not before pointing at his eyes with his fingers in a ‘V’ and then at Zayn.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m on my way, Haz,” he says on his phone. casting Zayn a last glare. “Something unexpected and _annoying_ came up.”

Harry. Ugh. Zayn has heard it a bunch of times. He has no idea who this Harry is (nor does he care), but it’s someone Liam talks often. Too often, in fact: most of the time it’s when Liam is with Zayn, and interrupting their conversations.

It was cool the first time. Not really a bother on the second or third time. After the 10th time (on the same week), though, it became a nuisance. Almost as if planned. Because of this Harry, Liam hardly pays attention to what Zayn tells him. Because of Harry, the _ding_ of texts are now Zayn’s most disliked sound. Harold, Hazza, Haz— it’s always Harry.

As for Liam... gosh, how come he hasn’t noticed it? Zayn expected better from somebody so attentive. Come on, now. A guy who can remember Zayn’s sisters’ and parents’ birthdays can’t tell some lad is annoying? _Bollocks_. Liam’s too smart for that.

But Liam also has his share of the blame, so for now, mildly inconveniencing him should suffice. He can go to his best mate in the whole wide world, Harold, to complain about it. Serves him right.

“Any idea how you two will split?”

Zayn catches Niall’s inquisitive look, and readily readjusts himself on the oversized cushion. He might as well have been smirking, because Niall eyes him like he’s off his trolley.

“I do, actually,” he finally replies, supporting his chin up with his phone. “You’re gonna love it, Ni.”

#

As much as Zayn loves his profession, he loves days off even more. Mostly because this isn’t directly related to it, but more of a consequence, he’d say. Writing, filming, directing— he lives for all this. Going to awards and social events? Not so much. Not at all, when his sociability drops under 50% and he can’t leave immediately.

Though it’s become a bit more bearable, having Liam beside him. As a couple, they’re expected to attend those together. That also means they can alternate and share the blame when leaving early. Not only that, but Liam’s sense of humour amuses Zayn. Whilst everyone else sees a gorgeous actor of killer body and poignant performances, Zayn sees a supportive dork.

It’s their secret, in a way.

Tonight, though, is an exception. Liam’s on his own tonight. The press expects them on the red carpet, but it’s not happening. Then they’ll inevitably ask about Zayn and learn the truth: Liam has called the engagement off due to work. He’ll reassure them it’s till they sort their schedules, and in two weeks it’ll be public knowledge they’ve split amicably. Easy, painless, and mess-free.

Zayn snuggles further under the covers, clasping a Batman mug in both hands. It’s a birthday present from Liam, and he loves that heat changes its colours. Again, Liam’s thoughtfulness. As long as there’s no Harry involved, he _is_ thoughtful.

 _“The ever so dashing, Liam Payne,”_ the interviewer introduces, making a grand gesture as a giggling Liam comes into the frame. _“Somehow even more handsome than usual, and I can’t say I thought that was possible!”_

Although Zayn scoffs at her shameless flirt, he’ll concede she doesn’t need her eyes checked. Few things are more impressive than Liam in all-black. What can he say? There’s a solid and chiselled reason for Liam’s modelling side projects— great genetics and hard work.

Clean shaven, Liam looks even more boyish than usual, and unsurprisingly the lady also giggles. Typical reaction to Liam Payne’s charms, Zayn supposes. He’s witnessed way too many times. His mum and sisters included. Too many stolen glances, too much giggling, too much screaming, and definitely too much crying. But this is Liam, and so it always ends up in warm hugs and a whispered _“It’s all right, love.”_

 _“How are you enjoying the night?” the_ scarlet-clad woman asks, shifting her weight so that her thigh comes forth through a deep cut on the fabric. _“Here to support your friend?”_

 _“Very lovely, everything’s perfect! I’m very happy and excited for Lou!”_ Liam beams, hardly containing his smile. His lips move so fast, it’s hard to not stare at them. _“That’s what he deserves,”_ he adds, momentarily making an impression of a generic, B-list celebrity to the camera, then bursting into more giggling.

The woman puts a hand on Liam’s shoulder. _“I noticed you’re by yourself tonight— The audience needs to know: where’s your equally beautiful fiancé?”_

Any trace of a smile vanishes from Liam’s face. He nods lightly, as if carefully choosing his next words.

 _“He’s feeling poorly.”_ He pouts to the camera, earning himself an _‘aww’_ from her. _“I’m single tonight.”_

 _This is it_ , Zayn thinks. That’s their plan in motion. Next, Liam should say he’s sure Zayn is watching (which is true), and then hint they’re taking a break from each other. And since Zayn was the one to propose, it’d look bad that he asked for space in their ‘relationship’.

She nods. _“He’s not afraid of ‘leaving you single’ in the night, then?”_

Liam shakes his head, closing a single eye whilst making a duckface. _“Nah. He knows me well.”_

 _Liar._ Zayn chuckles, taking another sip from his mug. Lad is amazing at this.

 _“Besides”_ —Liam produces his phone from his pocket— _“I’ve already picked the flowers for our wedding this morning.”_

Zayn spills tea all over the covers, next hurling himself out of bed. He pinches his shirt on the front, keeping the drenched fabric from burning his skin any further. When he brings his eyes back to the telly, there’s a shot of a large hand holding a phone to the camera. On the display, a picture of an aisle decorated in red roses.

 _“It’s his favourite. I quite like those, too. We’re very, very excited,”_ Liam’s voice tells them about the image. _“It’s our special day, so it should be special, yeah.”_

 _“He’s even more charming in person,”_ she tells the camera, placing a hand to her chest. _“That’s all I have to say to you.”_

The interview ends with Liam winking— _blinking_ —at the camera and blowing a kiss to the audience. Zayn remains on the same spot, soaked and frozen. The hot tea should thaw him out, but instead he’s stiff. _What the fuck?_

His ears pick up on low buzzing, and it’s no surprise to see Niall’s face smiling at him on the screen. Rolling his shirt up into a crop top, he picks his mobile, still trying to process what he’s just watched.

_“Neither of you told me about that.”_

“Just found out myself...” he replies. “Tha’ wasn’t wha’ we agreed on.”

Niall sighs on the other end. A pained, drawn-out sigh that’s easy to tell he’s pinching himself between his eyes. It’s what he always does when he’s done with anyone’s crap. Has done a lot more of it lately, too.

_“Well, say goodbye to singlehood in two weeks.”_

“Nialler—”

 _“Don’t ‘Nialler’ me, mate.”_ There’s Niall’s professional tone. If his convincing tone is softer and alluring, this one is harsh and demanding. _“It was fine the first time, but if you keep doing this shit, you two will really get married, and that’ll be another two years.”_

The line goes dead.

Zayn blinks at his phone. To add fuel to the flames, a text alert comes a few minutes later. He hopes it’s Niall and well-placed apologies.

_Just checking on future Mr. Malik-Payne. ;) Love you babe._

_This bitch_ — Zayn takes a deep breath. Fine. If it’s a wedding Liam wants, he’ll get a wedding. Pettiness is a game two can play. And he never plays to lose.

#

“I can’t believe this is happening.” Niall continuously shakes his head, arms folded over his chest, and gaze lost in the garden outside. “Can’t believe anyone would be this stupid.”

Zayn slides one leg into his white trousers. “It... got a bit out of control, I reckon.”

Niall nearly snaps his neck by how fast he averts his gaze back to Zayn.

“‘You reckon’?” he repeats, and he would sound amused, if not by this homicidal look in his eyes. “Cooking too much pasta for one person is ‘a bit out of control’, Malik. Inviting your friends and family to your fake wedding that’s actually real _isn’t_.”

Okay, it _does_ sound daft when put like that. But what can be done? His family have already arrived. Liam’s, too. _‘Hey, Mum. Hey, Dad. There’s no wedding happening. By the way, we’re not even together! Mental, right?’_ wouldn’t cut it, would it?

That’s not the worst part, though. At this point, he can’t tell what would disappoint his parents the most: buying into this charade or that he isn’t marrying Liam. Because, and it’s embarrassing to admit it, his mum _adores_ Liam. Genuine mum-son love, really.

Papa Malik isn’t different, either. From the moment he asked about Liam’s gym routine, this odd, gym-buddy friendship flourished. Once or twice Liam rescheduled their paparazzi walk to hit the gym with his make-believe future father-in-law. Or not so make-believe, since, you know, the whole wedding is happening. Very much real, and very much official.

 _Gosh_. Zayn can’t even defend himself against Niall’s accusations— this _is_ stupid.

Niall takes his phone out. “Where’s Payno?”

“No clue.” Zayn buttons up his trousers and pulls the zip up. “Hidden somewhere talking to his _best mate_ Harold, I’m sure. That’s _all_ he ever does.”

A phone skids on the floor, colliding with Zayn’s foot. When he looks up, he finds Niall staring at him with pure horror. He recognises it as the same look his mum had on the day Furnando—his old cat—ate his sister’s Hamster.

“Wha’?”

Instead of replying, Niall weaves his fingers together atop his head, rubbing it back and forth, whilst chanting _“shit”_ over and over.

“Wha’ is tha’?” Zayn tries again.

“You—”

A sharp, rhythmic knock on the door, and Liam bursts in, tugging himself by a tangled tie. Zayn immediately meets him halfway, already recognising the issue. Liam’s ineptitude to tie a regular tie whilst doing just fine with bow ties is both amusing and concerning.

“Wipe that smirk off, Malik,” he warns.

“No idea wha’ you mean,” Zayn replies, untying the red tie. “Finally here to admit defeat?”

Liam snorts. “In your dreams. This is your fault, so _you_ call this off.”

“We both know I can’t.” Zayn tilts Liam’s chin up, adjusting length for a proper knot. “You do it, or we’re _really_ getting married.”

“Mum sure hopes so.” Liam holds his phone above their heads, letting out a small laugh. This ringtone Zayn also recognises as the one assigned to Mrs. Payne. She has rung him earlier, though couldn’t get many words out with her sobbing. “She’s more nervous than us.”

Zayn nods, centring the knot under Liam’s collar. It’s so fucked up they’re doing this for work, because their families deserve better. After such a warm welcome into the Payne family, he speaks with authority that Liam’s parents are _wonderful_. He can’t remember a time people have embraced him as readily, besides his own family.

But then, it’s all a lie. They’re deceiving that kind woman that treats him as her own kid. And don’t get it wrong, he enjoys her company. Both for her energy and for providing him embarrassing baby stories to use against Liam. The fact that she gets along with his mum is just a plus, he supposes.

Considering all this, he can’t help how his stomach drops like lead to his feet.

“She’s lovely,” he concedes, letting a small sigh escape his lips.

“Afraid?”

It’s Zayn’s turn to snort. Afraid? Why would he? Annoyed that Liam is as—perhaps _more_ —stubborn than him and they’re liars, yes. Definitely not afraid _,_ no. He isn’t one to back away from a challenge, and right now there’s only this wedding. A conclusion to a lie that has gone too far. Again, it’s all Harry’s fault.

“Don’t test me, Payne,” he states, grabbing Liam’s chin and sustaining eye contact. A warm, large hand encases his wrist, though he disregards it. “I can marry you _any day_.”

“Well, I can marry you _faster_.” Liam quirks a bushy eyebrow. “I can marry you much _harder_ , babe.”

Zayn laughs. It’s more of cackle, really. It’s not him taking Liam’s name, after all. Though he reckons ‘Zayn Payne’ wouldn’t be all that terrible, ‘Liam Malik’ has a nicer ring to it. Thankfully, Liam is awful at paper rock scissors, and lost all three times they’ve played to decide surnames.

“Yeah? But I can—”

“—stop right there, for the love of everything good in this world,” Niall supplies, surprising both. Oh, that’s right. He’s still standing there, if only has a more terrified expression on his face. “Ye fuckers are kidding me!”

“What—”

Holding a hand up, Niall picks his phone up, curses the smashed screen, and flings the door open. All in one motion.

“Any wedding vows written?” he asks, nearly hissing. His tone makes it clear he’s won’t take anything besides ‘yes’ or ‘no’, and will mangle anyone who defies him.

Unsure, Zayn nods, watching Liam do the same. Niall’s exasperation only seems to grow, as he squints, shaking his head continuously.

“This is beyond my pay-packet,” he grunts, before slamming the door shut on his way out. _“Kiss at least once, will ya?”_

Suddenly, Zayn becomes aware of Liam’s chin between his fingers and hand on his wrist. And has the distance between their face always been this short? Because his own bewilderment reflects in the swirl of whiskey that are Liam’s irises.

“Your boyfriend wouldn’t be too chuffed about tha’,” he whispers, cursing that his eyes now focus on Liam’s rosy, plump bottom lip. Was it always like this, or he’s just noticing now, after Niall’s vaguely threatening suggestion?

Liam blinks. “My what?”

“ _Harrold_ ,” he clarifies. Why is Liam licking his incredibly plump bottom lip? This isn’t helping his coherent thoughts. “Tha’ lad you always talk to? Even when we’re together?”

A small ‘O’ forms on Liam’s lips, then he’s frowning.

“Lou’s boyfriend?” He chuckles. “You think I’m dating our mate’s boyfriend?”

 _Wait._ Isn’t Louis going out with an ‘Edward’? Not ‘Harry’. Zayn is sure it’s not a Harry.

“Wha’?”

If the smile on Liam’s face falls between ‘annoying’ and ‘puzzling’, Zayn finds himself more at ease than he cares to admit. He blames it on the crinkles around Liam’s eyes, as well as a cheeky cheek dimple.

“You’re jealous, Malik.” This is much of a statement as ‘the sky is blue,’ Zayn fears. There’s not a hint of questioning to his tone. “Is that why you proposed?”

Zayn groans. “You stopped listening to me when—”

Lips on his lips. Soft, oh so soft. Then, a tongue. There’s also an arm around his waist, which is welcome, because Zayn doesn’t trust his legs to support him right now. May or may not relate to his brain haywiring and only focusing on kissing Liam back.

“I... don’t get it,” he manages to say, still tasting what he’s just learnt is what Liam tastes like. “I thought you were, y’know, pissed off about this.” He gesticulates between them. “You did sound like it.”

“Because”—Liam rubs their noses together —“I’d already accepted we were done. Then you gave me... hope, I guess? _That_ was frustrating.”

“You don’t mind?” He hates how eager he sounds, but this changes everything. “Pretending and all?”

“We don’t have to pretend.” Liam shrugs, for the first time averting his eyes. “You’re not _that_ insufferable. Quite fit, too.”

“Never saw me starkers, did ya?”

That’s when Liam leans in, breathy voice by Zayn’s ear.

“Nothing honeymoon can’t fix, babe.”

They decide then, that after their wedding, they’ll have their first official date. If it doesn’t work out, divorce is always an option, Zayn supposes. Stubborn how both are, he wouldn’t be surprised to reach gold, emerald wedding before that happened.

The End

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> For inquiries on prompts and AUs, reach me @[zeskiyo](https://zeskiyo.tumblr.com/) on tumblr, or @[zeskiverse](https://twitter.com/zeskiverse) on twitter.


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